Only If You Take Me With You
by thegoldhat
Summary: Although he frequented amusement parks as a child, Troy Bolton has never quite met a roller coaster like Gabriella Montez. He's in for a thrilling, albeit frightening, ride. TxG.
1. Chapter 1

**Only if You Take Me with You**

Although he frequented amusement parks as a child, Troy Bolton has never quite met a roller coaster like Gabriella Montez. He's in for a thrilling, albeit frightening, ride.

-

**Prologue:**

At one point or another, everyone finds themselves questioning their own sanity.

But aren't we entitled to at least one moment where all rational thought just slips through our fingers, and we act ignorantly without a firm grim on reality?

_Did I just pass to the other team?_

_Did I just pay $30,000 for a potential prom dress?_

_Shit, damn, fuck, fuck, fuck, did I, captain of the scholastic decathlon team, just hook up with a lunkhead basketball player?_

In these instances, craziness is usually temporary and life can be redirected back on track.

Here's the thing about Bipolar disorder: when you're depressed, you let go because there's nothing to hold on to anymore; when you're manic, it's like the whole world is in your hands.

-

Each chair in the circle faces the center. This formation is obvious; everyone has to feel equal here, comfortable enough to share their feelings so someone can figure out what is wrong with them. There is one vacant seat with uneven legs, so you know once someone sits down, they'll be caught off-guard and bound to tip forward.

The door opens to reveal a petite brunette who surveys the room critically, as if evaluating every fidgeting teenagers' failures. Her narrowed, autumnal eyes bleed cynicism. "Oh, no," she cries in utter despair with a mellifluous trill of a voice. Just in case her tone isn't dramatic or mocking enough, she exaggerates a deer-in-the-headlights expression and clasps her hands beneath her chin. "Don't tell me that this is _another_ one of those group therapies for suicide survivors! Last time I went to one, I wanted to _kill_ myself."

She throws her head back, sending her wild black mane flying off her shoulders, and lets her cackles strike the air like lightning.

At one point or another, everyone finds themselves questioning Gabriella Montez's sanity.


	2. Chapter 2

"_If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, "My flower's up there somewhere. . . ." But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And isn't that important?"_

_-The Little Prince_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

After knocking on the Danforth's door, Troy didn't expect to be brought to the past when a younger version of Chad lets him in.

"Don't open it, Chase!" Chad calls from upstairs, unaware that his warning came too late. Jogging to the doorway, he groans and scolds the child, "What did I say about strangers?"

Confused, Troy says, "Sorry, I must have come to the wrong house. I'm looking for my friend, Chad Danforth, who called me over?"

"Oh, sorry, dude. And thanks for coming. I just can't have him talking to random people who he doesn't know or else my sister's going to kill me." He steps aside to let Troy on to the tiled foyer and closes the door behind him.

"Chandra? She's in Albuquerque? And this is her son?" He marvels at the similarities between Chad and his nephew.

"Yeah, she's visiting." Gesturing to the kid, Chad says, "His name's Chase and I've been stuck babysitting him all day." He turns to the five-year-old and tells him to go get ready.

Seeing a bit of a pattern, Troy questions, "Isn't your dad named Charlie?"

"And my sister's expecting another kid named Chenille." Chad's voice is monotone as he waits for Troy's conclusion.

"Your names ... "

"I know. It's so lame. Don't even talk about it. When I have a kid, I'm naming it Xavier or something."

Troy shrugs and smiles slightly. "Lots of families like similar names."

"It might be cute for twins, but I think my family went overboard," Chad scoffs.

"So what did you need me for? It isn't to choose your outfit for our first day of senior year on Monday, is it?"

"Ha-ha, funny. No, I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to the carnival with us. I need to keep Chase busy -- I can't let him near my Wii after what happened this morning -- and Chandra did leave me money to keep him entertained. But I'll go insane with only this kid for company. "

Troy clears his throat and says sarcastically, "Well, I'm always up for spinning teacups on a Monday afternoon."

"Come on, maybe you'll meet a hot girl at a kissing booth or something. Ride into the sunset in a bumper car and all that." He gives him a playful shove and grins suggestively.

Annoyed, Troy gives him a pointed look. "Do you just pretend Sharpay doesn't exist?"

Equally annoyed, Chad cocks an eyebrow. "Do you just pretend your relationship exists?"

Troy adopts a serious expression, warning his friend not to go farther. "Look, man. You just don't under -- "

"I'm ready, I'm ready! Let's go," Chase hollers as he scampers down the stairs with a giant grin.

* * *

Chase is having the time of his life, and he tells his uncle and his uncle's nice friend this as they walk by the looming Ferris wheel with its multicoloured, blinking lights. He finishes off his grape-flavoured Popsicle and asks, with dark purple stains on his lips, if he can go on one last ride before they leave.

Chad agrees, and both he and Troy watch as Chase runs to wait in line for a small children's ride, making sure the short five-year-old will still be in view. Turning to face his friend, Chad says, "You know, now's your last chance to find that kissing booth."

Unimpressed, Troy gives him his best, _"Are you serious?"_ expression.

"I am serious! Just get over Sharpay. I don't think she's just going to come back from the Caribbean and all of a sudden take you back after a summer without ever contacting you." Chad shrugs and crosses his arms, unable to picture himself waiting around if he was in Troy's position.

"How do you know she hasn't called?"

"I'd know; you wouldn't be able to stop talking about it."

Troy breathes noisily through his nose, and asks for advice, "How do I prove to her that nothing happened between me and Emily?" Emily was one of Sharpay's friends that tried pushing herself on to him at a party last year, but when he refused, she'd gotten angry and impulsive and lied to Sharpay about the events that night.

"Dunno, but she's more likely to trust one of her ... Sharpettes over you."

Nostalgia softens his voice. "But I was her boyfriend."

"Why do you want her back again? Because she's rich?"

"No, because she was eccentric and independent, not clingy like those cheerleaders you drool over, and perfect for me," he reminisces.

"She also barely acknowledged that you guys were going out while you followed her around like a puppy."

"I'm still hoping I can prove my fidelity to her. And that's not going to happen by kissing a stranger in a booth," Troy states.

Raising both hands defensively, Chad replies, "Okay, but I still cannot see what you see. She's … how do I say this? She's like a mountain lion. Cute, yes. But you don't pet it."

"What the hell, man? What kind of an analogy is that?" Troy jumps immediately to defend Sharpay, but his questions are facetious.

"If she were to say, "I am a Wildcat," to, I don't know, show school spirit for once, everyone -- but you -- would take her literally."

"Hey, maybe you should ease up on her."

Chad gives him a warning look and lets his words of wisdom tumble from his mouth. "But she's self-centered. She knows what she wants, and she'll do whatever it takes to get it, and she won't tolerate anyone dragging her down or possibly getting in her way. I'm sorry, Troy, but I think she was just using you for your popularity status."

Before Troy can speak, Chad interrupts, "Think back. Have you ever felt any genuine appreciation from her? I get that her difference from the cheerleaders has some appeal, but I don't think she's for you."

Then Chase reappears with wind-blown hair, and the debate is dropped because both Troy and Chad come to an unspoken agreement that their different views on teenage love will not ruin the last week of summer vacation. With a sheepish smile, Chase tells his uncle his one last request before they leave.

"You want to get your face painted?" Chad asks, confused. "Why?"

"Because," Chase answers with the one word children use to explain everything. "Please, please, please?"

Giving in, Chad checks if they have enough money, and they survey the area for a face-painting booth. They manage to locate one manned by a blue-haired, teenage girl with a heavy fringe, and Chad is almost reluctant to allow Chase to come anywhere near her, but Troy points out he shouldn't judge someone by their hair, and Chad acquiesces.

While Chase leads Chad to the booth, Troy is stopped by a beautiful girl with friendly brown eyes with a canvas set up between him and the face-painter, and she tells him she will draw a caricature of him free. He quickly scans over her examples: someone dressed as a pirate, a doctor, a lion tamer, even a basketball player, and he is impressed, so he accepts her offer. He tries unsuccessfully to read her signature on the drawings. He deems it illegible and can only make out a G at the beginning and two Ls near the end.

They make conversation, and he remarks that Sharpay has never giggled this way around him before. Around the tenth giggle, however, he is thankful for this.

Troy shares with her his passion for playing basketball, and his number, 14, to help inspire her. She considers this and shuffles around some papers behind her canvas that hides them, but he does catch glimpses of bright coral nail polish. He can identify the shade, of course, thanks to Sharpay, but he does have a brief flashback to his girlfriend asking what position he played in basketball months into their relationship when he thought she already knew and realises that maybe Sharpay hadn't listened to him as much as he had listened intently to her.

They continue talking lightly about various topics. He learns that she has just moved to Albuquerque with her family, and she's starting her first year of college in the fall. Her interest in him hasn't waned since she's found out he's in high school, but with Sharpay at the back of his mind, he tries his best not to lead her on.

When she draws, he notes, her tongue sticks out ungracefully, and he hopes no saliva will drip on to his sheet. "I'll be done in just a bit." She looks up, grinning, and studies his features one last time. "I want to get your eyes right, but it'll be hard to do them justice."

Smiling bashfully, Troy scratches the back of his neck, waiting for the coquettish brunette to finish.

She proudly whips the paper out so he can view it. He hides his disappointment as he discovers it's the same as the original basketball example, as if she's traced over a free template she found on the Internet, except she's changed the hair to look more like his and his number has been added. But whenever she deviated from the original, the lines are chunky and awkward and he can tell they don't belong. He clears his throat and thanks her when she hands him the drawing.

Suddenly, he hears Chase pipe up. "Ow! That hurt!"

Then a female voice growls, "Hold still, kid."

And Chad, clearly frustrated, lashes out, "Don't talk to him like that! You almost poked his eye out. You've been manhandling him!"

"Does he want his fucking spots or not?" Troy sees the blue-haired girl rise out of her seat to stare Chad in the eye.

Chad seethes, "He wants spots, not puncture wounds."

Her frown morphs into teeth-baring grin. "It'll add to his realistic wild, ravaged animal look. Go hard or go home, I always say. You're paying for the best here."

"I'm not paying you a thing." Chad grabs Chase's arm, ready to lead him away, and shouts to Troy, "Let's go. This service is horrible."

Amusement disappears from her face like a ghost. "Where the hell do you think you're going without giving me my money?"

He ignores her and leaves, Troy trailing after them.

Before she can start after Chad, Troy sees, out of the corner of his eye, the illustrator of his caricature grab her arm. "Gabi," she says, "let him go. It's just two dollars. You owe him that much. And what were you thinking, anyway? Why'd you do that?"

"It's only my job, Giselle," she drawls with an undercurrent of anger. "To enlighten the carnival experience with every delicate stroke of the paintbrush."

"I meant being rude to the customers," Giselle sighs, not liking the impression Gabriella had made on them.

-

"What do I look like?" Chase asks as they walk. "I never got to see. Do I look cool?"

Chad looks too furious to respond in a tone that won't make a five-year-old cry, so Troy scrambles to find an animal that resembles the incomplete paint job on Chase's face. "Oh, very cool, buddy. You look just like a -- a leopard." Satisfied with his answer, Troy nods once affirmatively. "A very cool leopard."

_"It's a hyena, goddamnit!"_

Troy whips his neck around to see Giselle trying to restrain the insulted artist by keeping a firm grip on her once windmilling arms.

Under his breath, Chad mutters the word, "Deranged," as they head towards the parking lot, past the cotton candy stand, the spinning tilt-a-whirl and the distant screams from a roller coaster hurtling into a loop.

* * *

**Thanks for your support last chapter and I hope you keep reading and reviewing! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the amazing reviews again! And in case you have already noticed, I haven't made Gabriella as sugary sweet as I've made her in the past, but I just wanted to experiment with this one. And if you find yourself hating her and questioning her motives sometimes, well, the other characters are probably going to be doing that, too. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Taking a bite out of her toasted Cookies and Creme Poptart, Gabriella roams through the house, not caring if her aunt will scold her later for leaving crumbs everywhere.

She is quite pleased at herself for having finished buying all her necessary school supplies this morning, a full twenty-four hours before the first day of school, instead of coming empty-handed the morning of and stealing off her fellow classmates. She finds it hilarious how careless others can be sometimes, leaving their pencil teetering on the edge of their desk or forgetting to close their locker all the way so it never actually locks. And, even funnier, there are some who are so precautious they jam their whole bag with enough notebooks that they never notice if one or two are missing at the end of the day.

But for some reason, probably because this is her last year of high school -- perhaps the last time she will ever set foot in an educational facility again -- she'd felt the need to make it memorable. That's why she has a book bag slumped over in a corner of her room, near some partially unpacked boxes, holding a packet of blue pens, a binder, and a two-pocket folder with pictures of prancing puppies on the front.

Licking the tips of her fingers, she searches her mind for something that will entertain her for a while. Seeing Giselle's closed door, she smiles, always enjoying the chance to play with other people, especially her cousin.

She lays a hand on the cool doorknob, twisting but not pushing it just yet. "You better be decent in there," she calls.

"Wait! Don't -- "

"Hey, cousin," chimes Gabriella upon entering the perfectly organized and put together bedroom. She smirks. "'Sup, Gizzy?"

The only acknowledgement Giselle gives Gabriella is when she rolls her eyes at the nickname. She otherwise ignores her because she's heard the worst way to get rid of someone who's pestering you is to egg them on.

Gabriella begins wandering around the room, while Giselle, lying on her stomach and reading a magazine on her bed, continues pretending to be unaware of her presence. Giselle has her iPod plugged into speakers and 'Cry' by Mandy Moore is playing softly.

"You've been moping around for a week," Gabriella complains.

Giselle flips a page and studies tips on the proper way to apply mascara.

"Is it a boy? A new one already? Oh, Gizzy, we've just moved here. But it is a boy, right? Don't answer that. I already know. It's always a boy. One that has swept you off your feet and then subsequently thrown you over his shoulder without ever looking back. A pity, but c'est la vie." Gabriella chuckles. "It does usually take you quite a while to get back on your oversized, Cinderella's-stepsister feet of yours, but you manage. So don't fret, darling. The future is bright."

Giselle groans. "Are you done yet?"

"Only if you are."

"Go away."

"You need support right now."

"You don't know how to be supportive."

"I'll never learn if I don't try."

"Stop spewing out these formulated replies that make you sound genuinely caring!" Giselle snaps.

"What if I am really turning over a new leaf? You could be shutting me down during my initial attempt at an act of kindness, which is supposed to be my first step in becoming a better person." Gabriella puts a hand on her chest. "A better cousin."

Giselle sighs, "All right. I need to vent a little, anyway, and you have ears."

Walking over to the bed, Gabriella perches herself on its edge. "Go on."

"Remember the carnival we were at last week? You were face painting, and I was drawing, and, well, there was a boy who I offered to draw for free. He had the most gorgeous pair of sparkling blue eyes I'd ever seen. They were like oceans."

It took months, nay, years for Gabriella to learn how to control her laughter when her childish cousin said pathetic things like these.

"I spoke with him, even flirted a bit, while I drew and tried sticking my tongue out in that cute way that endears guys. Then when I was done, I wrote my number on the back, hoping he liked me enough to call, but he never did." Dumbfounded, Giselle continues, "Maybe I should have given a hint that something was on the other side, in case he didn't see it."

Having been extremely bored for the entire morning, hearing this story instantly made Gabriella's day a whole lot better. A snort escapes before she knows it.

Her cousin frowns. "Are you laughing at me?"

Giselle's incredulity is the key to opening up a floodgate of comments she'd held back. "I wouldn't be surprised if he threw it out. Even when tracing a template your drawings are crap."

"I bet you scared him off with your tantrum, and he thinks we're both crazy." Giselle muffles a groan with her pillow. "Thanks a lot, cousin."

"He's probably just prefers _real_ artists."

"Don't insult me. This is all your fault! I thought I read all the signs right. I was almost certain he was in to me."

"Hey, genius, have you ever considered that fact that he might already have a girlfriend? And that you can't read other people?" Gabriella stands up and makes her way across the floor.

"I'm still blaming this on you." Giselle presses her palms against her closed eyes in a dramatic demonstration of her defeat and her hopelessness. "You drive everyone away."

"I'll leave you to grow up now. You have a lot of work to do before starting college, and I don't think you'll befriend anyone with an attitude of a tween." Rolling her eyes, Gabriella sighs and turns so her back faces Giselle, ready to exit the room. Before leaving, she shoots one last question over her shoulder. "By the way, have you seen my wig?"

"You mean this one?" Giselle slyly smiles while pulling out a tangled blue bird's nest from under her bed.

Rage wraps around her heart and squeezes until she feels it's about to burst. "You stole from me?"

"I'm doing you a favour," she explains. "Looking like a psycho isn't going to help you at your new school."

Lunging for the fake hair, Gabriella yells, "Give it back!"

But in the blink of an eye, Giselle rolls away and swiftly grabs a pair of scissors that Gabriella hadn't noticed before. "As your older cousin, it's my duty to help you. Plus, I bet this was part of the reason why that boy didn't want to call me back. At the beginning of your squabble with his friend, I tried to make it seem like I didn't know you, but you made me step in. Now he's associated me with a blue-haired witch that tortures little children."

In horror, she watches as bits of blue float towards the floor like feathers until her wig is no more. "You'll regret that." Gabriella makes a show of dragging her eyes from the blades of the scissors to Giselle's fleshy, olive-toned neck. "My dad _is_ a prisoner on death row, don't you remember? He's taught me everything he kn -- "

Giselle puts her hands on her hips. "Jesus, Gabriella, you have a messed up sense of humour." Even after years of living with her cousin, she still doesn't understand her. The two would often clash as Gabriella enjoyed tormenting anyone who was close enough to hear her voice. Giselle's own mother eventually gave up trying to settle the arguments after a while.

Gabriella giggles and then leaves, slinking into the hallway. For as long as she can remember, they've taken turns trying to piss the other off. It'd started when Giselle had accidentally spilled orange soda on Gabriella's white shirt one day when they were in junior high, and the next day, Gabriella had shoved Giselle into a mud pit. Sometimes the revenge was intentional. Other times, it just happened, although neither girl had gone as far as to endanger a life except when Giselle's hamster had steered its plastic hamster ball a little too close to the edge of the stairs, and Gabriella had no intention of helping it. Thankfully, the older cousin had rushed there in time to stop the creature's bumpy decent to its death.

Giselle walks over to close her door and shouts, "Freak!" to her cousin's retreating figure.

Gabriella, however, isn't listening, but is instead wondering how far she will go this time. Several plans swim in her head, but she doesn't feel pressured to come up with anything anytime soon, so she decides to wait for an opportunity to arrive. The best revenge, she's learned, is the kind that will come right to you, practically crawling on to your lap with you having put no effort into finding it at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Two white poles hold up a banner settled in front of East High, which welcomes all the Wildcats back for yet another school year. More red and white banners are hanging off beige brick walls between large windows. Most of the students are gathered outside in large, frenzied clumps, many believing that summer vacation isn't over until their first step on freshly waxed linoleum floors.

Troy takes in the familiar setting as he steers his white truck into an empty parking spot. He's close enough to be able to spot his friends, who also happen to be his teammates, conversing near the fountain.

Because of his height, Zeke is the first one to see him and alerts the others. They exchange greetings while the rest of the school buzzes around them.

Chad addresses the group, "This is it, guys. We're seniors. It's our final year at East High -- "

"Thank God for that," interjects Jason.

" -- We're going to graduate in June. It's never going to be the same again. This is our last time to make the most out of high school."

"You're sounding really redundant there," Troy comments.

Zeke claps Chad on the back. "Feeling sentimental?"

He grins. "Just trying to make this memory as poignant as possible."

-

East High, Gabriella decides, already looks predictable. Another year will simply pass her by.

Strangely enough, this is the second school named East High that's she's encountered. The last one was in California, smaller and surrounded by a permanent ring of smoke left by students who simply showed up to go through a pack of cigarettes and obtain drugs. It was pretty ironic how their parents sent them off to an educational institution to get smarter when, really, they were gradually losing brain cells. She remembered this one well because she'd received a suspension after she knocked out a guy's tooth with her fist after he'd tried to slip a hand under her skirt.

This East High appears to be much safer than the other, but Gabriella doubts she'll be able to endure its ordinariness and monotony.

Seated in the passenger seat of Giselle's Honda, she rolls down the tinted window and surveys the scene glumly. "I have déjà vu," she tells her cousin, who's beside her with her fingers impatiently tapping on the steering wheel.

"How fascinating," Giselle replies dryly, not at all appreciating her mom's order to drive Gabriella to school on her first day. This morning, she's running solely on a cup of coffee due to her lack of sleep last night. There was a part of her that regretted her decision to chop up something of Gabriella's, as she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up bald.

"Want to drop me off at the mall instead?"

"Nope." Giselle presses the button to unlock the doors. "Have fun, kiddo."

-

Zeke turns to Troy. "How's it going with Sharpay?"

"She hasn't responded to any of my messages yet," he answers.

"You know, I hear the play this year's going to be Twelfth Night, and Sharpay's already got the role of Viola in her clutches."

Jason exclaims, "Dude, if you want to get her back, try out for Malvolio."

"Orsino, Jason," Zeke says, "Viola falls in love with Orsino. Malvolio was the servant."

Troy smiles. "It's not a bad idea. I mean, what's the harm in being well-rounded, right?"

Chad mutters something about how if Troy were to play the Duke Orsino, Sharpay would be better suited for Olivia, the beautiful countess being pursued by a man who only loves being in love.

"What did you say?" Troy asks.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it," Chad grumbles.

-

Suddenly, Gabriella's eyes light up as if she's found out that the first ray of sunshine has broken through a dismal blanket of clouds. She clutches the edge of the car seat in excitement when she spots the boy from the carnival and his friend, the one Giselle was infatuated with, near the dinkiest fountain she's ever seen. They're accompanied by two others, a tall, dark guy and a shorter one, trying to see past the shag of hair hanging over his eyes.

The group starts to move, not towards the school but closer to the parking lot, where Gabriella is, and she becomes giddy with happiness.

-

Not only Troy, but everyone outside, has spotted Sharpay's pink convertible. She gets out of her car, long, tanned legs first, and adjusts her sunglasses. His heart quickens as he walks over to meet her, his friends close behind.

"Hey, Sharpay," he breathes once he's face to face with her, hoping desperately that she isn't just opening her mouth to ask him if they have Physics together this year.

-

"Oh, I see someone we know!"

"What? Who?" Giselle cranes her neck, searching for a familiar face in the sea of constantly moving students. "Where?"

"Good-bye, Gizzy. I'm going to go say hi to them now."

"But who is it?" Giselle questions again, planning to stick around a bit longer to find out the identity of someone who has met Gabriella and is unrelated to her but willingly chose _not_ to move out of town.

"You'll see." After taking a long sip of ice water from her bottle, Gabriella gets out of the car and glides over to the fountain, fully aware she's being watched by her confused cousin and knowing how exactly she would avenge her beloved wig.

-

Troy briefly registers Chad incredulously whispering, "No fucking way," while staring at something out of his own line of view, but his body freezes when Sharpay clamps her mouth shut before she has the chance to take him back.

Confused, he waits for the worst until the shock from a pair of cold, foreign lips landing on his own haphazardly flips his whole world upside-down.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

He doesn't bite her mid-kiss.

Which is surprising, but good, Gabriella thinks.

He does, however, pull away immediately, shocked and gaping for words.

"Oh, shit," Jason whispers, voicing the thought running continuously through all the boys' heads.

It takes about two milliseconds for Troy to recognize her from the face-painting booth, except now she has dark drown hair, and notice that Sharpay is now striding towards the front doors of the school. He grows even more furious, fighting back the urge to forcefully shove the carnival girl to the ground as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Now how is he supposed to prove that he's faithful?

Gabriella hears the sweet sound of Giselle's Honda exiting the parking lot, a slight screech informing her that her plan had been executed well. Judging from the boys' pale faces, the results had turned out even better than she thought they would.

She takes a step back, her eyelashes fluttering softly as if they were delicate butterfly wings.

Troy then explodes, "What the hell was that?"

Gabriella regards him for a moment with innocent doe eyes. "A thank you for requesting my services last week. Oh, wait, that was him." She glances at Chad who's frozen in place, and giggles, "Oops."

His ears are ringing as he tries to form words in spite of his overwhelming anger and disbelief.

"Well, I guess you'll have to pass it on to him, then," chirps Gabriella. She rocks back and forth on her feet as she revels in the situation and how familiar it is, always taking delight in watching people trying to evaluate the problem, realizing its severity and then looking like they're about to either pass out or strangle her.

"Do you -- do you have any idea how -- oh, fuck it. I'll deal with you later." And in a flash, Troy is now running after the blonde, weaving through the crowd and dodging backpacks while hitting a few people with his own in the process. He almost trips trying to get up all of the front steps with a single leap, and the strap of his bag is snagged on the railing.

Gabriella pities him a bit, but it stops there, as remorse never enters her mind.

With only a few more minutes until the start of classes, the crowd moves as one large entity towards the school. She lets herself become swallowed up in it before one of the boy's friends could finish what he had postponed until later.

She walks up the steps with confidence, preparing to let the repercussions of one microscopic, impulsive kiss between her and an ordinary blue-eyed boy unravel.

-

Luckily, Sharpay frequently wears heals, so Troy is able to follow the clacking and locate her amongst their peers in the busy hallway. "Sharpay," he calls, "Wait!"

The skirt of her pink and white dress disappears around the corner. He hurries after it like a poor man chasing a dollar bill attached to a fishing line, knowing there is a chance he can grab it, but he probably won't get to keep it.

Troy continues to yell, "It's not what you think. I don't know her at all. She randomly chose me out of all the boys in the school to kiss!"

By this point, almost every head in the corridor has turned to watch the pursuit.

Sharpay finally decides to walk into a nook in the hall for the water fountains and waits for her ex-boyfriend to join her. "Troy," she says calmly, "It's okay. Don't -- "

"But," he pants, "Why'd you walk away?"

"I thought she was your girlfriend. You were having a moment, so I thought I'd leave you two alone and catch up with you another time."

"She's not!" he insists. "How could she have been my girlfriend? We -- "

"Broke up, Troy," Sharpay explains, enunciating her words clearly. "We're not together anymore."

"The whole thing with Emily -- it was a misunderstanding." His voice is desperate now, eyes begging her softly to reconsider.

"Whatever did or didn't happen between you and her doesn't matter anymore. Do I really have to tell you this again?"

"It mattered then! And it's affecting us now."

"Emily wasn't the only issue in our relationship."

"Then tell me what else there was!"

"Troy," she sighs. "Please."

"I think you're acting too fast, not giving us enough time to get over this bump."

"I think you have to move on from that glittery version of us you've got in your head that never existed in the first place." She regrets the sudden move she made to bluntly cut off all communication with him after their separation instead of letting it taper off, as she imagines a miserable Troy missing her all summer. She thought he'd be better off being forced away from her, and although he might be angry for a few days, he would eventually realise he didn't need her as much as he wanted to.

Troy can tell Sharpay's annoyed with him. He's never seen her so serious and straight-foreword before. A part of him starts to deflate, and there's too much pressure on his mind.

The bell rings shrilly, signalling the start of classes. She says, "Good-bye," and he, having little control over his mouth now, reflexively returns the farewell remark.

Sharpay struts off in one direction, and he knows he needs to head off in the other.

Defeated, he trudges to his locker, ignoring the fact that, all this time, his lips have never stopped tingling.

* * *

Troy didn't plan on tracking down his spontaneous kisser until lunch hour, but it seems fate has plopped her directly in his path. He leaves his first period class only to see the carnival girl emerge from the next room over, trotting away from him. No one but him notices a thin book the size of a calculator fall out of her arms. A frantic student whizzing by unwittingly treads on it.

He's about to walk past the novella, but hesitates, knowing he'd feel guilty if any more footprints were to mar an innocent book. So he submits to his conscience and picks it up. It's _Animal Farm_, by George Orwell, and he guesses she has to read it for class, which makes sense because he would have never pegged her as a read-for-pleasure type.

Troy runs up to the girl, their strides beginning to match. "You dropped your book," he monotonously informs her as he holds it out.

She grabs it from him. "Oh, I guess I did."

He feels a rush of indignation at her lack of appreciation for his laudable deed. Giving her a chance to excuse herself, he asks, "Hey, why did you kiss me this morning?"

She averts the question. "I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves." Her gait is nonchalant, and she shifts her books from one hand to the other. "My name's Gabriella Montez. What's yours?"

Impatient, he spits out his reply tersely, "I asked you why you kissed me."

Without warning, Gabriella barrels Troy into a lone sophomore, yet she'd been discreet enough to make it look like an accident. After hearing the boy shout, "Sorry, Troy!" she smiles at her luck, believing she has always been a magnet to good fortune. This Troy has to be quite popular for a random kid to know his name, Gabriella notes.

"I told you, _Troy_. It was meant for the other one."

He can practically see the lie slip through her teeth like a sliver of smoke. Any person would have been able to remember Chad's afro. "You caused a shitload of trouble for me, just so you know."

"Hmm, so the blonde from this morning, is she your girlfriend?"

"She might have been if you hadn't interrupted us."

"You had mutual feelings for each other then?" chirps Gabriella, adding a bounce to her step, almost skipping alongside him. "Interesting. I haven't received my slap yet. You know, like in the movies."

Troy grinds his teeth. "It's complicated."

"So what do you want from me?"

"Huh?"

"We could move on from this incident, but you had to go seek me out in your free time. Is it because earlier today you said you'd 'deal with me?' But, I mean, what are you going to do?" She feigns curiosity. "Would the golden boy really make the lonely new girl pay for a simple mistake?"

"Well, I -- " Troy's cut off by Gabriella's stumble after tipping over someone who'd bent down to tie their shoelace.

She casts him a withering glare, and snarls, "Hey, buddy, no one likes a roadblock."

He blinks at her inability to admit that it had been just as much her fault as it had been his. "Oh, wow, you don't know how to say sorry, do you?"

"What?"

"I went to go find you because something didn't sit right with me. It might have been an accident that you kissed me, but you didn't seem apologetic at all that it caused me trouble."

"Sorry." Gabriella swiftly runs her tongue across her lips, as if tasting this strange new word. "Are you happy now?"

"Something genuine would be nice," Troy comments.

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"I'm not begging, just telling you the right thing to do."

"Who are you to order me around?"

"I'm not. I'm only trying to help a lonely new girl make some friends around here."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

Gabriella can't remember ever spending a single moment of her whole existence desiring friends. They would be too needy and would never understand her, only hindering enjoyment and progress in her life.

Besides, relationships were hard to maintain in general. It's annoying enough trying to please her aunt everyday just so she can be provided with shelter and food.

But attending a new school does put her at a disadvantage. Perhaps she can find some sort of ally for the time being, to help her navigate her way around. Maybe even to brief her on the history between Troy and the blonde.

Troy -- she considers him to be an interesting character. Definitely intriguing. Yet she can't quite place her finger on the reason why. At her other schools, she's seen look-a-likes. His appearance is pretty generic after all, floppy chestnut hair, blue eyes, laid-back style.

He'd been her second kiss. She received her first when she was sixteen, and she was at her locker when a boy appeared and suddenly planted one on her. It was quite like what she had done to Troy. She later discovered it had been a dare to kiss 'the scariest girl at Sun High.' The boy had won fifty bucks and the admiration of his companions. When Gabriella learned this, she wrestled him on the front yard for half of it with most of the school as their audience. "It's only fair," she'd said daintily to his bruised and grass-stained face.

It's after lunch, and Gabriella joins the group of students filing into Art class. Art was easily chosen as one of her electives since it was a 'no effort' class and, luckily for her, didn't require a prerequisite. No way in hell would she be sitting in a class full of freshman.

The teacher is late, which is odd for the first day, but Gabriella doesn't mind and picks a seat. She surveys the room for a gullible face.

A girl with a bird's nest on top of her head plops herself down next to her. "Hi there!"

Gabriella manages a smile. "Hi."

The twig-haired girl sticks out a clammy hand. "I'm Martha Cox."

"Gabriella Montez."

Then another girl comes to sit with them. Her bob swishes slightly as she gives Martha a curt nod and smile as a greeting.

Martha beams at Gabriella, introducing her friend. "This is Taylor Mckessie."

They exchange hellos, and Gabriella wonders why Martha seems so curious about her. Martha launches directly into a question, "Are you new at East High? I haven't seen you around before." When Gabriella answers yes, the sparkly-eyed Martha continues, "How do you know Troy Bolton?"

Taylor nudges her with a stern expression on her face, but unexpectedly, Gabriella matches Martha's happiness.

She's found herself a talkative gossip. How wonderful.

-

Sharpay has free period after lunch and is strolling the halls, but shoots occasional glances over her shoulder, cautiously avoiding anyone else. She takes light steps to soften the noise made by her shoes. Suddenly, an arm comes out of nowhere, grips her waist and pulls her into darkness.

She releases a mild squeak in surprise, but that same hand is now clamped over her mouth. Yanking it off, she spins around and kisses her ambusher passionately. It's heated and hands are roaming. Even being unable to see through the obscurity, she knows it's him because of his familiar touch.

Finally, they break away.

Sharpay automatically lifts a hand to smooth her hair back. "A janitor's closet?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Just a little trite is all."

"Oh, my apologies. Next time I'll choose something less convenient but original like, say, the school's rooftop garden as our secret rendezvous place."

"Fine, this'll do, but if I get anything spilled on my dress, someone's buying me two new ones."

"No thinking about more clothes right now."

There is silence, except for a few moans and rattles from cleaning supplies being bumped into.

"Why don't we turn on the light?" she whispers.

"Because someone might see it through the crack under the door and wonder if there's anyone in here."

"Oh."

"Sharpay?"

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"I just wish we didn't have to do this here."

"Okay, okay, fix your bra, and we'll head on up."

"No, I mean, I wish we didn't have to always hide ourselves."

"I know, but … "

"We should just tell him."

"I don't know … as his best friend, I don't think it's the best idea right now."

"We're not even dating anymore!"

"If he finds out the reason why is me, it'll crush him. Or I'll get crushed. Who knows; he's unpredictable."

"It's not you though! We … we did like each other once, but we've both changed and he won't accept that. No matter how many times I push him away, he'll keep waiting at my doorstep for the day I change my mind. He doesn't deserve that."

"We should give him more time. He's not ready."

"I can barely do this anymore. We need to come out of the closet!"

"Literally though, right?"

"Yes, literally!"

"Just checking."

"What about that girl who kissed him? I was hoping she was his girlfriend. Does she like him? We could set them up!"

"No, no, far from it. She's some weirdo we met over the summer. Setting him up with someone does seem like a good idea though …"

"Kelsi? I know her from the drama club and she's quiet and shy but she's got the whole artist appeal. She's smart and she can stick up for herself. They'd make a good match."

He's about to agree when a flood of light blinds the pair. A cheery Gabriella stands in the doorway with paint splatters on her clothing and shoes. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Her giggles sound like silver bells at Christmastime.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

Previously:

_"A janitor's closet?" Sharpay asks._

_"What's wrong with it?" Chad questions._

_"Just a little trite is all."_

_"Oh, my apologies. Next time I'll choose something less convenient but original like, say, the school's rooftop garden as our secret rendezvous place."_

…

_A cheery Gabriella stands in the doorway with paint splatters on her clothing and shoes. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Her giggles sound like silver bells at Christmastime. _

-

This is, by far, the best first day she's ever had. Giddy from her mind attempting to process all this overwhelming information (most of it contributed by Martha Cox) she almost forgets to grab the mop from the closet that she was sent to retrieve.

"Gabriella!" Chad exclaims as she bends over to pick up the handle of the bucket. "You can't -- "

Her face impassive, she cuts him off by closing the door. She wishes she could lock it and do whatever it took to drag Troy Bolton over to this end of the school so she could watch his reaction right then and there. She pictures him as the quietly-fuming-and-storming-off/giving-his-best-friend-the-silent-treatement-for-the-rest-of-high-school type. But, who knows, she could be wrong.

Chad bursts from the closet, fearing the worst. Gabriella imagines Sharpay being too horrified to face her. He beseeches, "Please, please don't say anything."

She continues trudging forward with the mop and bucket. "What if I write him a letter?"

"I don't know if you have an inkling of kindness inside you, but I have to ask you to try and forget what you saw."

"What I saw was you and Sharpay Evans having a conversation inside a janitor's closet. It's a bit odd, yes, but why would anyone be shocked and devastated to hear that?"

He gives a sigh of relief. "Thank -- "

Her eyes twinkle. "Unless I mention that you both had matching shades of lipstick on and messy hair, and -- oh, yes -- her dress was half off," she muses, not looking directly at Chad.

He feels a rush of indignation. "Who would believe you?"

"Who wouldn't? Please, Chad. A blind man could read the guilt on your face."

"I'm pretty sure you've already heard about Troy and Sharpay, so I know what this must look like to you, but we never meant to hurt him or anything. It just happened. I can explain it to you!"

He grabs her upper arm, and only because she isn't in any hurry to get to cleaning duty, she stops and faces him. "Go ahead."

"He's my best friend, and he'll know once he moves on. We plan to help him move on. He just has to figure out that someone else out there is better for him. We never had any bad intentions."

She resists rolling her eyes at Troy. The boy should release his grip on the past because life only permits you to move forward. "Wouldn't he try to understand if you two got together after their break up?"

Chad is silent.

"Unless you guys did stuff before the whole Emily incident."

"No!"

"If you lie again, my ears will actually bleed." She playfully gestures to the mop in her hand with a grin. "You'll have to clean it up."

"Sharpay and I actually do love each other. It's not an impulsive, oh-heck-let's-just-do-this thing. I know Troy -- known him since kindergarten, and I know they aren't right for each other."

"You think stories about fate and forbidden lovers are enough to melt my heart? Guess again. I've already seen it all on _Gossip Girl_. I only seek true entertainment nowadays."

She's always loved toying with people, and once in a while, she finds something -- a secret, perhaps -- to serve as a needle and will give enough pressure to pop a relationship like a balloon.

Chad looks drained, as if he has to re-plan all his future moves.

Gabriella contemplates something for a moment, and then purses her lips. "Let's race."

"What?"

"We'll see," she says nonchalantly, "if you can figure out a way to tell Troy in the nicest way possible, while I try a find a more creative, scandalous way to reveal this to him."

She'll have fun watch Chad dodge awkward moments between the three of them, look at Sharpay longingly with Troy in the same room and find any excuse to be together. He might spontaneously combust.

But if Troy finds out because Chad and Sharpay slipped up, she might not be there to see the unravelling of it all.

Cheerleaders are very generous in sharing information. She's heard around school that Troy and Chad are already a shoe in to making the basketball team even before the tryouts because of their past performances. Troy will be most likely elected captain again. She might tell him after their first game. If they win, she'll crush him. If they lose, he'll be shattered.

Or she could publicly reveal them, so not only is Troy stunned, but the whole school will be, too.

When she thinks about it, Troy has never done anything to her, but, really, this is all to torment Chad, and she's hurt people in the past trying to get what she wants. The tincture of guilt she feels inside is fleeting, but she swats it aside and continues with the original plan. She'd rather be caught dead than with a conscience.

Besides, it doesn't have to be solely for her own amusement. They could benefit from it, as well.

Chad is pathetic, she thinks, for trying to talk her out of it. And she tells herself they -- Chad, Sharpay and Troy -- will all come out of this better people. They will have learned their lesson, develop tough skin.

She was once in a very vulnerable state herself, but instead of constructing a wall to keep people out and remaining fragile, she built herself up and dared anyone to try to knock her down again. 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger' was her personal maxim, and she'd repeat it to anyone who'd listen.

* * *

Troy pulls out his keys from his pocket and shuffles through them to find the one to his truck. His head snaps up when he hears his best friend shout his name as he runs across the school parking lot.

Thinking he will say something mundane, Troy unlocks the door while waiting for Chad to come over. The dark-skinned teenager slows down when he reaches the truck, and places one hand on the hood to support himself.

Troy looks at him expectantly. "What's up, man?"

"Whatever absurdity that that Gabriella girl may claim to be true," Chad huffs, "don't trust her. She's a maniac."

* * *

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